The Call of the Others

Chapter 32

“How many aliens are left?” Martin asked. The alien-hunting gang had been sentenced to another room, separate from the other guests and Joe’s class.

“We killed seven,” Charles answered, holding up seven fingers.

“Preston and I found one in the sewer,” Mr. Woodward added.

“Frog—erm, ahem,” Joe said, pretending he had coughed. He didn’t want them to know about the nickname he had given the alien. “The one that ate Martina died.”

“And don’t forget the one that got hit by the semi,” Preston cut in.

Charles held up ten fingers.

“You said there were nine,” he said, eyes wide.

“We probably counted wrong!” Martin said optimistically. “Let’s try again.”

“Seven.”

Charles held up seven fingers. Please let this add up to nine this time.

“One in the sewer.”

Eight. Nine.

“One that ate Martina.”

Nine. Please.

Preston gulped. “One that got hit by a semi…”

Ten.

“What does that mean?” Cary asked.

“There’s another extra-terrestrial creature we didn’t know about,” Mr. Woodward said calmly.

Cary’s jaw dropped, and he started crying. “THAT IS SO WEIRD! WHY DO ALL THE WEIRD THINGS HAPPEN TO US?! UGH, LIFE IS SO TERRIBLE,” he sobbed in Martin’s shoulder. Martin, at a loss for words, awkwardly patted his back, saying, “There, there.”

“It was a small alien. You might have missed it,” Joe suggested.

“No,” Scott said. “I helped capture all of them. All nine of them.”

They thought about this in silence.

What should we do?

Are they going to make us search for other ones?

Can we just go home now?!

Cary looks ugly when he’s crying.

Scott smells like peaches…

After an incredibly productive thought process, Mr. Woodward was the first to speak.

“I didn’t see anything,” he said. Turning to Scott, he asked, “Did you?”

Catching his drift, Scott shook his head. “Nope. Nothing.”

“Great! Nine in all! Let’s go!!! Before another alien shows up,” Charles mumbled, proudly showing nine fingers.

“Alright. What about the witnesses?” Scott asked.

“Meh. They’ll forget about it by morning, probably. And who would they tell about it?”

“True.”

“Sorry about my panic attack, guys,” Cary said, wiping his eyes. “It’s been an emotional weekend.”

“You’re ugly when you cry,” Martin said.

“You’re ugly even when you don’t cry.”

“Seriously? We’re back to this again?”

“You gotta problem with it, Smartin?”

“Um, I’m going to go to bed,” Joe said, standing up.

“Well, before that, I’m going to need to ask one of you all some questions for my report,” Mr. Woodward said. “Anybody?”

Nobody said anything. Joe finally shrugged and said, “I’ll do it.”

His friends were somewhat shocked, considering he never participated in class, let alone an interview from an alien hunter. Most of all, though, they were grateful Joe was taking care of it, because frankly, they didn’t exactly know what had happened themselves.

Joe didn’t exactly know everything that had happened either.

He was doing this for Cassandra.